


Skywise

by Lothithil



Category: Big Bang Theory, Stargate - All Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-27
Updated: 2011-11-27
Packaged: 2017-10-26 14:24:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/284305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothithil/pseuds/Lothithil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack, doing his thing, gets caught by one of his tenants. For 'The House That Jack Built'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skywise

**Author's Note:**

> I don't write ship... not because I don't love it, but because others do it so much better. But I sensed a void that needed filling, so this is the result. Jack/Janet (mild ship)  
> Also, I liked the idea of Maybourne being the 'slum-lord' owner of this building, enlisting/drafting Jack's help in managing it. So many other good ideas from everyone!

**The House That Jack Built**  
Skywise  
  
 ****One of the good things about this apartment-manager job—one less thing to kick that bastard Harry Maybourne’s ass about, that is—was that the building he was responsible for had one of the best roofs he’d ever had access to… a perfect platform for his ‘little hobby’.

 _‘Blessed be the Astro-Geeks up at that college’,_ Jack thought as he peered through his telescope at a distant galaxy, _‘for they have found the time- between throwing cocktail parties to fund field trips to Florida to watch shuttle-launches and weekly UFO Abductees Anonymous meetings- to lobby for the enforcement of the Energy Conservation Movement to keep the City's damned ambient light down to a minimum after midnight.’_ For **that** alone Jack willingly parted with a donation check every year… usually cut right after the spectacular Pleiades meteor shower in August.

Jack figured he had the best view of any other amateur sky-gazer in the city, up on his brick stack. He hadn’t actually spelled it out in the leases that he made his residents sign, but he did everything else he could to discourage people from going up to the roof… it was like his private preserve.

Leaning back on the patio bench, he carefully cleaned the lens of his LX180GPS—which he had paid almost as much as he had for his Ford F250. But these days, Jack was getting more mileage from his telescope than from his truck; he went up every clear night that he got a chance… and with the weather turning its back on autumn, clear days were getting fewer and further between.

Below his feet, the building emitted the typical sounds of a residence full of college students on a week night going on 2 am: the muted exchange of verbal fire of the study groups, hurling Q's and A's back and forth; the dis-harmonic clash of music that would make any seasoned DJ stagger blindly toward a porcelain bowl; the inevitable sound of someone standing on the fire escape haranguing their roommate concerning the disposition of a three-day old pizza.

Jack screened these noises out... he was keeping his ears open for a certain, tell-tale sound… the squeak of the seventh step that led to the roof from the third storey landing.

Residents had mentioned the squeak to him—casually, while passing in the hallway, or pointedly, when they were delivering a rent check—but Jack had no intention of fixing it. For one thing, he hoped that it would help discourage traffic. Also, he tended to think of it as his early warning system. At the sound of that squeak, Jack knew that he had exactly thirty-two seconds to redirect the angle of the telescope so that the interloper would not know exactly what he had been looking at… he drew a perverse pleasure from concealing his true purpose in lurking on the rooftop. He had a handy mental list of responses prepared, tailored specifically to browbeat anyone cocky enough to ask him what he was up there looking at. Luckily—so far—no one had had the balls to come up the stairs after dark.

It grew cold quickly; a typical early winter evening. Jack was ready for it. He tugged a knit cap down over his ears and zipped himself up in a sleeping bag that he had draped over the bench. The sounds of the building gradually quieted down, as geek by geek, the residents passed out from boredom or exhaustion. Jack permitted himself to hope; he should have at least three hours to spend with the celestial bodies that beckoned him before the moon rose and cast her lovely but inconvenient light over the city.

The eyepiece of the telescope was a cold kiss on his cheek as he settled in for the show.

Very soon he was immersed, having achieved the perfect angle of viewing; the bench pulled up right under the ‘scope and his arms half embracing the barrel, his head inclined slightly and resting on his shoulder. The sky was performing beautifully, and the galaxies were opening up to his gentle probing. It was almost like a love affair—only he didn’t have to worry about meeting anyone’s parents or asking for his albums back if things went badly.

The light touch on his shoulder startled him— he jumped like he hadn’t jumped since the last time Carter had caused the plumbing to reverse by building a miniature particle accelerator in the bathtub.

Grabbed the telescope protectively, though he hadn’t actually capsized it, he turned to aim his most withering glare at the person who had dared… “What the fu—!”

“Ahh! Who’s there…? Oh, it’s you… Mr. O’Neill?” Panic segued to amazement, tinted with alarm.

O’Neill’s eyes were accustomed to the darkness; he picked out the silhouette of a child-sized woman standing in the pitch-dark night. “Fraser, right? From 102? What the hell—what’s wrong now?” he asked with acid displeasure. He steadied the telescope, keeping his hands protectively on the barrel so that it wouldn't be jostled if she started blundering around in the darkness.

“N-nothing. Nothing at all… sorry!” Janet gulped, “I just—h-hadn’t expected anyone to be on the roof at this hour…”

_Great one, O’Neill… you’re supposed to kiss the girls and make them cry… not snarl at them until they wet their pants!_

With a note of genuine repentance, Jack said, “I didn’t mean to snap at you… I, ah-hem… I didn’t hear the step creak."

“I stepped over it…" The dainty dark figure stopped shuffling backward. "I-- I hate to disturb anyone on my night-walks.” Janet laughed, still a little nervous, and Jack was amazed at the unexpectedly rich rippling sound. “I didn’t mean to intrude…”

“Not at all,” Jack realized that he wasn’t lying, in spite what he had been feeling thirty seconds ago. He managed to make his voice actually sound gentle. “Plenty of stars and darkness to go around.” He gestured grandly as if it were all his to share, then felt a little foolish when he realized that she probably couldn’t see him. “Uh… grab a seat, Doc.”

“Thanks.” Jack heard the slats of the bench whisper under her slight weight as she sat down. “What are you looking at?”

All the snappish, ready answers that he had prepared fled from his mind. “Ah… stars in global clusters."

"What's that?" Janet asked bluntly, completely unprepared to hear scientific gibberish coming from the unlikely source of Jack O'Neill.

Jack sighed, used to being misunderstood. "Pornography... Mr. Simmons over in the Brennon Building rented 'Nancy Does NASA'--one of the classics. It's probably before your time, though, Doc."

Janet chuckled. "Oh, you're _joking..._ " Her shape in the darkness seemed to grow as she moved closer. "What a beautiful telescope!"

"Ah... thanks."

Janet was settled on one end of the bench, Jack on the other. After an awkward moment of silence, he remembered what he had been doing and set his eye again to the scope. He sighed: he had lost his alignment.

"Do you come here often?"

Jack looked up. "Isn't that supposed to be **my** line?" he asked dryly. "What are _you_ doing up here, Doc?"

Janet was amused. "You keep calling me 'doc'... I'm not a doctor. Not yet."

"But you're studying to become one... "

"Yes..."

"So what is a doctor-to-be doing sitting on top of a building gazing at the stars? You got a minor in Astronomy?"

"No... I just... like looking at them," she finished lamely. "It calms me." Janet smiled then, and even in the meager starlight Jack could see the flare of that smile, like a small sun, and he was suddenly and unaccountably warm all over... too warm.

"Me, too," was all the snappy come-back that Jack could manage. "Like looking at them, that is." Feeling sweat beginning to bead along his forehead, he reached up and pulled off the stocking cap.

Janet shivered suddenly; the tremour shook the entire bench.

"You okay?"

“Well,” Janet hesitated. Jack could see the movement as she rubbed her arms. “It’s a lot colder up here that I thought… I didn’t bring my jacket.”

"I've got a blanket--" Jack began to say. He unzipped the flap of the sleeping bag that he had wrapped around himself, about to offer it to her, when she forestalled him by slipping her slight body into the bag beside him.

"Thanks! Oh.... that's nice and warm." She zipped the bag shut and huddled close to him, drinking in his warmth.

At first, Jack wasn't sure what to do... here he was curled up with a co-ed on a rooftop, and if anybody else came wandering upstairs... things could get very complicated!

But as Jack felt Janet's shivering subside, and the cool night and the winking stars worked their tantric magic on him... and he decided that this wasn't such a bad arrangement.

Not bad at all.

Hours passed. Eventually Janet fell asleep against Jack's shoulder. By the light of the newly risen moon he could make out the delicate features of her face, already quite soft and agreeable, but made softer and more pure by moonlight. He slowly moved his arm, folding over the corner of the sleeping bag which had slipped from her shoulder.

Careful as he was, the slight movement woke her. "Oh, dear... I should go..." Janet roused herself. She made no protest at waking to find Jack's arms around her... in fact, she leaned up and kissed him on the jaw.

"You're not, um... going to tell anyone about this?" Jack asked cautiously as she unzipped the sleeping bag.

Janet turned and gave him a look. "Isn't that **my** line?" She patted his shoulder where she had lain her head, where he could still feel the warmth of her and smell the fragrance of her hair. "I promise I won't break your cover as a cranky down-to-earth apartment manager."

"And you'll tell everyone that I tore strips out of you for coming up to the roof after dark?"

"Absolutely... I'll make sure everyone knows you're a bear." She paused before opening the door to descend. "Tomorrow?"

"If the sky is clear... I'd enjoy it."

"Me, too. Good night... Jack." The door shut softly without a sound.

"Good morning... Doc."


End file.
